


Alpha(s)

by missmollyetc



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: AU, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-03
Updated: 2006-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best part of a man is the part you carved yourself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A pre-series AU ficlet out of a series of AU ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha(s)

  
He'd had a puppy, growing up, a little bundle of fur whose paws were too big for its body and whose muscles hadn't quite grown to match the rest of it. Poor little mutt hadn't known its ass from its nose, but it'd _tried_ so hard Coop couldn't help watching over it. He'd fed it, played catch with it, made sure it knew what places in the neighborhood it was safe to go into and where it'd catch a beatin' 'cause Old Man Gilbraith was a fucking loony. They'd gone everywhere together. Until he'd enlisted, of course, and then by that time Coop's puppy had become a real mean little bastard, perfectly able to stand up for itself (even if it had still crawled into his bed most nights). Damn thing had died before he'd gotten back from his second tour.

Don snuffled in his sleep, and turned over onto his stomach. A red, healing gash on his back stretched as he moved, the tail end covered by the scratchy motel sheet he and Coop shared. Coop dropped his fingertip at the top of the gash, right on the first tiny, black stitch, and slowly dragged his finger downwards. His nail bumped over each stitch, catching on the plastic string.

Don's shoulders hunched. His back undulated, hips pressing down into the mattress. Coop pulled the sheet away to trace the closed wound right to the end, where it curled into the small of Don's back. He licked his lips, pushing the pad of his finger into the cut, where the red skin became a mottled bruise. Don whimpered, pushing up.

Coop risked a look up and saw Don's head turned toward him on the pillow, brown eyes sharp with lust and a little bit of pain. Coop grinned. Should have known he couldn't touch Don without waking him up. Boy always knew what was happening around him, Coop'd made sure of that.

He expected the strong hand that smacked his arm away, and he leaned back while Don turned on his side to face him.

"You had enough ‘rest?’" he asked.

The length of Don's body called to his sight, daring him into savoring each muscle and scar. Don was a prize any way you looked at it, and his eyes still held that twilight shimmer of puppy worship Coop had helped pare away.

"No," Don said.

Don put his hand flat between them on the mattress, sliding it forward until his fingers pushed at Coop's stomach. Coop automatically sucked in his gut. Don chuckled and bumped harder, digging his thumb into Coop's belly button.

"Bastard," Coop said.

"Not to hear my mother tell it."

The sharp edge of Don's thumbnail sliced a close circle on Coop's belly, dipping into his navel. Coop shivered. His cock stiffened against his thigh. He smiled, slow and lazy, watching Don’s gaze grow heavy, feeling Don’s thumb thrust against his stomach.

“How _is_ your mother these days?” he asked, and Don growled.

Coop braced himself, adrenaline ripping through his frame, and lunged when Don’s hand went for the side of Coop’s neck. He sent Don on his back, hissing as his wound met the bed. Coop reared back, catching Don’s wrists in either hand. Don fought him back, teeth gritted. His forearms bulged with the effort of holding up Coop’s weight.

“Touchy, Eppes,” he said, grinning so hard his lips pulled back from his teeth. “You always have to be a momma’s boy?”

Don snarled and forced Coop up an inch. Coop leaned harder, bracing with his knees. His cock slid against Don’s. He gripped Don’s wrists more tightly, thrusting slowly into the cradle of Don’s legs.

“Leave…my family out of this,” Don said. Even in the dim light of the motel window, Coop could see his pupils were blown. The bony cap of Don’s knee inched up his thigh. Just a little more…just enough when they were almost equals, but Don was still _his_. His to train, his to fuck and prank and all the sorts of things a man did with the raw material given him.

“You started it.”

Coop inclined his face towards Don’s mouth, stopping when he could feel hot breath against his lips.

“Did not.”

Sweat pooled in the hollow of Don’s throat, high in the spot Coop couldn’t afford to mark without consequences. Coop’s tongue flickered out, the tip catching Don’s chin.

“Sure you did,” he said. “You’re always starting something.“

He dug his knees into the mattress and put some power behind his thrusts. Don’s breath stuttered in his throat. Coop found a nice, careful, rhythm, just that edge of force to make Don’s body accommodate him. Don’s eyes widened. His tongue touched the wet spot on his bottom lip. Coop tracked the motion, craning his head to kiss a knuckle of Don’s hand, stopping for a brief nibble on the bone. The air was humid in his lungs, the skin under his mouth spiced with traces of gun oil and sweat.

“I was _sleeping_ ,” Don rallied, pushing up with his arms and almost getting an elbow’s worth of leverage.

Coop went with it, surprising Don--and it really shouldn’t have by now, fucking puppy habits--and then let gravity take its course, dropping his weight onto Don so they collapsed back to the bed. Coop turned his head to the side, so their faces didn’t knock together, and got a mouthful of hair for his trouble. He groaned, feeling the tight skin of Don’s stomach turn wet with fluid.

“This isn’t good for my stitches,” Don said.

He crooked his calf around Coop’s knee, teasing the thick muscle of Coop’s inner thigh. Coop pushed his mouth down to Don’s ear, fucking the nearest crease to the same rhythm of his hips. The trick was to never stop, never let up, secure in the knowledge that Don wanted it--on his terms yes, but that he _also_ wanted it on Coop’s. When Don pushed, he just wanted someone to push back that much harder.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Coop said into Don’s ear, teeth carefully placed on the fragile shell. _“Little brother.”_

The groan came boiling from Don’s gut, loud and savage. His arms dropped back to his shoulders, and Coop had him, taut flesh bending around him, drawing him deeper into Don’s skin. He pushed Don’s hands to the mattress, rutting against Don’s body. His dick slid against Don’s cock, blistering hot where they touched.

Don tore his face to the side, out of Coop’s teeth, panting in great gusts. Coop growled, eyes avid on the gleaming flesh of Don’s chest. The wide, usually hidden expanse of his shoulder fell under his stare, perfect for Coop’s mouth: thick, sweaty and scorching under his tongue. Don moaned.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “There, c’mon damn it--”

Coop bit down and Don’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whipped his face back, flushed and transfixed on Coop’s mouth where it met his shoulder. Coop grinned and Don’s head flopped to the pillow. His hips shoved into every thrust, fighting Coop even in this, making him work for it like he was supposed to. Don wasn’t a follower, not for too much longer, but for now he was under Coop, writhing and calling his name.

The bed slapped against the wall, dust rising up from the headboard. Coop sucked on the flesh in his mouth, pressing until the heat under his tongue boiled over. He drew back with a wet pop, transferred Don’s right wrist to Coop’s left hand, and wrapped his right fist around both their cocks.

Don’s head reared back, jaw snapping at the ceiling, as Coop jerked them off, hard and unrelenting. He tightened his grip, spreading the precome until the tendons exploded in Don’s neck. His chest expanded, froze. His fingers clawed each other as he came, boiling over onto Coop’s lap.

Coop’s breath caught in his throat. He went to one elbow, pressing his forehead into the lurid red mark on Don’s shoulder, and fucked his own fist, sliding his dick along Don’s softening cock until the fire in his stomach overwhelmed him and he shot onto Don’s chest, stroking them both through the comedown until Don began hissing in pain and shoving at Coop to “move the fuck over already.”

“So much for the afterglow,” Coop muttered.

He took a deep breath and let it out, stretching out next to Don on the bed.

Don snorted, but inched down to rest his head near Coop’s on the pillow. His left hand landed on Coop’s chest, the wrist already mottling. Coop idly kicked out at the sheet they’d tumbled to the floor, but fuck it was hot. Why go after it?

“Thought that _was_ the afterglow,” Don said, yawning.

“Nah,” Coop said, “just a little…something.”

He closed his eyes. He was tired. The day had finally caught up to him, all the running and driving…and that whole shooting thing….

“Umh,” Don mumbled.

“Ung,” Coop agreed. He put his hand over Don’s, holding it for only a moment--hell, everything was only a moment--and slept.

End.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have nothing (apparently, not even my sanity). Numb3rs is the product of CBS and the Scott Brothers, and I make nothing from this while they rake in the millions. Which is how I like it. In other words? I. Made. It. Up.


End file.
